


“Ma sick. I scawed.”

by PropShopHannah



Series: Throne of Glass prompts and asks [3]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, manorian family, manorian witchlings, witchlings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 14:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PropShopHannah/pseuds/PropShopHannah
Summary: Anon asked: What about manorian with their own little family?





	

“Da, _da_?” said a little voice.

Dorian Havilliard opened his eyes. It was well past midnight. He looked over and saw a pair of eyes–one bright blue, one burnt gold–staring at him from behind a mess of wavy, moon-white hair.

“Gavin, why aren’t you asleep?” Dorian said.

“Up, up,” the little boy said, tapping the edge of the bed. It was too high for him to climb onto. Dorian sat up and reached for his son, pulling him into his lap.

“Did you have a bad dream?” He asked. The little boy shook his head. He was holding onto a stuffed animal of a wyvern that had seen better days.

“Ma sick. I scawed.”

Dorian looked over to Manon’s side of the bed and realized it was empty. He reached over–the blanket and pillow were cold. He tucked his son into his arms and got out of bed.

“Where is your ma, Gavin?”

“Bathwoom by my woom.” Dorian left his bedroom and walked across the main chamber room toward the bathroom next to Gavin’s room. He had no idea why Manon would use that one instead of the one that connected directly to their bedroom.

He saw the faint glow of light from beneath the door. He knocked gently.

“Manon?” he said. “Are you in there?” Dorian heard her groan.

“Yes, come in.” Dorian opened the door.

“Sick, ma sick,” Gavin said.

Across the room, Manon was on her knees. One arm folded across the side of the bathtub, her head resting against it. She groaned. Her other free hand was pressed against her swollen belly.

Dorian crouched beside her. She turned her head to face him.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she said. Dorian smiled.

“Why not? Is it time?” He wiped the sweat off her brow with his hand. He noticed the blood and fluid in a pool around her knees. She wore a thigh length, black nightgown–the undergarments she’d worn had been removed–Dorian could see the wet pile of fabric sitting on Manon’s other side. “How long have you been like this?”

She groaned again.

“Since midnight.” Dorian looked at the clock, it was three in the morning. When she’d labored with Gavin, it’d taken nearly twenty-one hours. This time, she seemed to be progressing much faster. Dorian used his magic to apply pressure to her lower back. Manon moaned–it felt good.

“I wish you would have woken me up when it started.” He hated the idea of her going through this alone. Hated the idea of her being in pain. Hated that there was nothing he could do about it.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” she grit out. “Gavin had a bad dream. I was putting him to bed when it started, so I came in here to wait it out. I thought it’d take forever like last time, and I didn’t want to wake you. Then my water broke and it just–” she groaned. Dorian grabbed her free hand and let her squeeze it. “It just progressed really fast.”

Gavin reached for her.

“Ma, I scawed. Ma.” She smiled and leaned back, reaching for her son.

“It’s okay,” she said to Dorian when he looked as if he wasn’t going to hand Gavin over. It was hard for her to hold him, her belly was so big. Dorian passed Gavin to her. “Don’t be scared. Ma is okay, Gavy. I thought I told you to go back to bed.” She kissed his forehead.

“I sowwy.”

“Should I go get Asterin?” Dorian asked. Manon nodded.

“Sorrel and–” she gripped the side of the tub as another contraction violently worked it’s way through her.

“How far apart?”

“Close–minutes,” she grit out. “More than three, less than five,” she said. “Can you get Chaol for Gavin? And maybe Vesta, too.” She groaned, voice like gravel. “Asterin. Get me Asterin.”

“Ma,” Gavin said. “I did go bed. But I heaw ma. She sick she need my da.” Manon smiled as Dorian left to go get help.

“I’m not sick, Gavy. Your brother or sister is on the way. Are you excited? You’re going to be a big brother soon.” Gavin looked unsure.

“What if I don’t wanna be big bwothew,” he said. “What if baby sistew or bwothew doesn’t like me.” Manon tried to smile as the pain ebbed.

“Of course they’ll like you, Gavy. You’re the sweetest boy I know.”

“Okay.” He laid his head on his mother’s shoulder and wrapped his arms as best he could around her neck. “I scawed.”

“There is nothing to be scared of, Gavy. Ma is going to be fine. This kind of thing is normal. The same thing happened when I had you.”

“It did?” he said, sitting back to look at his mother. She nodded. “But sistew or bwothew is huwting you.” He pat her stomach. “I don’t like them huwting you, ma. Is not nice.”

Manon smiled, her son looked so worried.

“It’s okay, Gavy. The same thing happened when I had you. Ma’s body had to work to push you out. It hurt, but it was worth it.” She kissed his forehead. He smiled. She could feel another contraction building. “Sometimes when the pain gets bad, it helps to growl.”

“Like a beaw?” She smiled, despite the spasming in her stomach.

“Yes, do you want to growl with ma?” Gavin smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

“Just”–she panted–“growl real big”–another pant–“with me, okay?”

He nodded again, and when the pain got so bad that all Manon could do was groan and growl, Gavin did, too. The contraction lasted longer than the others. It spasmed across her body like lightening, and at it’s peak, Manon could have cried it hurt so bad. But she kept it together for Gavin. Then it started to ebb.

“Did I do good job, ma?” Gavin said. Manon nodded and kissed his forehead.

“Yeah, baby. You did great.”

“What’s all this noise I hear?” Dorian said, trying not to rush back into the room. Asterin was right behind him, accompanied by Sorrel and Vesta. Gavin’s face lit up.

“I gwowl like beaw cuz ma says it make pain bettew.”

“Gavy, Vesta is gonna take you to go hang out in one of the guest rooms with Uncle Chaol, okay?” Vesta walked forward and put her arms out, reaching for the boy. Dorian settled behind Manon and gently massaged her back. Asterin and Sorrel gathered towels and linens from the cabinets lining the wall.

Gavin furrowed his brow and grabbed onto Manon.

“No. I wanna stay with you and da.”

“You need to go back to bed, Gavy. Ma will be fine,” Dorian said. Gavin eyed Vesta, unsure.

“Whewe uncle Chaol? He has doggy.” Manon gripped the side of the tub. She couldn’t keep the iron nails on that hand from shooting out and scraping against the porcelain.

“Uncle Chaol is just outside the door, Gavy,” Vesta said. “If you come with me, we can go see him.” He still looked unsure.

“Dorian,” Manon grit out. He pushed harder on her back.

“Chaol,” he shouted. “Can you come get Gavin, please?”

Vesta stepped aside, and they all saw Chaol standing in the main chamber room, just outside the door. He looked… uncomfortable. He waved.

“Hey Gavin,” he said. “You gonna come hang out with me and Vesta? I got some stories we can read, and Axel is pretty lonely without you.”

“Axel,” Gavin said, perking up at the mention of Chaol’s dog. Vesta moved to grab Gavin.

“No,” he yelled, clinging harder to his mother. “Uncle Chaol.”

The contraction built as Gavin refused to let anyone take him from his mother’s arms. Chaol still stood in the hallway. Manon didn’t want to traumatize their son, but she didn’t have time for this.

“CHAOL,” she growled as politely as she could. “Come. Get. Gavin. Now.”

Chaol Westfall had the good sense to look terrified as he marched into the bathroom, muttered a quick “sorry” and picked up the crown prince.

“Thank you,” Manon grit out, as he left with Vesta.

Once they were gone, Asterin, Sorrel and Dorian got to work. They helped move Manon so that she was kneeling on folded towels and not the hard floor. They filled the tub with hot water and cleaned her up as best they could. She thought about getting in the bath, how nice the heat would feel on her back–but she was bleeding and leaking and something about sitting in a bath of her own fluids sounded disgusting.

She opted to stay on the floor.

She didn’t want to lie down, couldn’t. Her whole body screamed at her to stay on her hands and knees–she did. Dorian used his magic to keep her cool when she grew too hot and warm when she grew too cold. He massaged her shoulders with his real hands and used his magic ones to press against her lower back to ease the pain from the contractions. The only time Manon laid down was when Asterin would check to see how dilated she was.

Hours passed.

“You’re at ten,” Asterin said triumphantly, removing her hand from between Manon’s legs. It was just past five in the morning. Manon was exhausted.

“Thank gods,” Manon half sobbed, as Asterin and Dorian helped her roll to her side to get back up.

“You’re doing great,” Dorian said, wiping sweat from Manon’s brow. “Do you want to sit? Or stay like this?”

“Sit.” Sorrel immediately jumped up from the stepping stool she’d been sitting on to grab a birthing stool. Asterin and Dorian gently helped Manon to her feet. She gripped their hands and growled as another contraction barrelled through her. She had to lean forward. Every muscle in her body contracted and screamed at her to push.

She did.

Bending her knees, Manon squatted down and pushed. Both Asterin and Dorian brought their arms around her to keep her steady. Sorrel put the stool behind Manon. A minute later the contraction was over and Manon could stop pushing. Asterin and Dorian gently pulled her up and set her down on the birthing stool. She cursed.

“You’re doing great, witchling,” Dorian said, crouching in front of her. She leaned her head onto his and gripped his shoulders with her hands. Sorrel and Asterin scooted their seats closer and helped push on Manon’s lower back.

“Why did I let you do this to me?” Manon growled. “Fuck, it hurts. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Dorian hated this part. Hated that he knew it took two people to make a baby, but only one of them had to actually make a baby. And then birth it.

“I know,” he said, rubbing her shoulders and wiping the sweat from her face. “I know it hurts. I know it’s my fault. But you’re doing really good, witchling–”

“Here comes another contraction,” Sorrel interrupted, glancing at Asterin and Dorian.

“Deep breath,” Dorian said.

At the same time, both Asterin and Sorrel told Manon to push. Dorian let her dig her iron nails into his shoulders and told her what a good job she was going. Then it passed.

“Where are we at king?” Asterin said, handing Dorian a mirror. He took it and held it between Manon’s legs. He couldn’t see a damn thing.

He brought his other hand beneath her and lit a small-blue fire on a few of his fingers.

“I don’t see anything,” he said.

Three contractions–and a lot of cursing–later, Asterin slipped her hand between Manon’s legs and felt the baby’s head. Dorian knew because of the smile that lit up her face.

“One more big push, witchling, that’s all we need. Then we’re done, okay?” Dorian said. Manon was pale, sweaty and exhausted.

“I can’t,” she said.

“Yes, you can. This is nothing. This is the best part. You can do this.”

“I can’t,” she half sobbed as the next contraction built. Dorian grabbed her face.

“Yes, you can,” he said. “Remember that time you had to channel me and Aelin’s power to remake the Lock?” She barely nodded, but held his eyes. “That sucked. That was hard. That nearly killed you.”

She tried to smile and said, “I almost died that day.” Dorian nodded.

“It was the scariest day of my life.”

“That was”–she groaned–“the first time”–another groan–“you told me you loved me.”

Dorian’s answering smile was the biggest she’d ever seen.

“I love you so much, Manon. And this is nothing compared to that day, okay? You gave us Gavin, you’re gonna give us this child, too. Just one more big push for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

The contraction built, and every muscle in her body told Manon to push. She retracted her iron claws and grabbed Dorian’s hands–holding them between her legs with her own. She curled forward and pressed her head into her king’s shoulder and pushed–gripping his biceps with her hands. The pressure in her body built and built and built, and when she thought it couldn’t build anymore, she opened her eyes just in time to see the top of her witchling’s head fall into Dorian’s waiting hands. Asterin and Sorrel’s hands close by, just in case.

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Dorian said, catching their baby. He brought the child immediately to Manon’s waiting arms. “It’s a girl,” he kept saying. “You gave me a daughter. You gave us a daughter. We have a daughter.” He wrapped his arm around her as she cradled their witchling to her chest. She was screaming and healthy and the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen.

A few tears fell from Manon’s eyes as she held their child, but Dorian was openly shedding tears. He just kept kissing Manon’s head, saying thank you for this gift, for their daughter. Just kept telling her how amazing she was and how well she did. He told her he’d buy her diamonds or weapons or whatever she wanted. Manon just leaned into him and smiled and pushed when Asterin and Sorrel told her until everything was over.

[One week later]

“Da, _da_?” said a little voice.

Dorian Havilliard opened his eyes. It was well past midnight, but a light was on in his room. He looked over and saw a pair of eyes–one bright blue, one burnt gold–staring at him from behind a mess of wavy, moon-white hair.

“Gavin,” he said. “You should be asleep.”

“Up, up,” he said. Dorian groaned and sat up, pulling his son into his lap. He looked over to Manon’s side of the bed. A small lamp burned from atop her nightstand. She sat against the headboard, nursing Rhiannon.

“Gavy,” she said. “I told you not to wake your father.”

“Sowwy,” he said, snuggling into Dorian’s chest. Dorian moved to lean against the headboard, tucking Gavin under the blanket with him.

“How long have you been up?” he asked her.

“Forty minutes this time… I think,” she said. Dorian leaned in to kiss her.

“We can get a wet nurse,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“Wet nurses are for humans.” Dorian smiled.

“I _am_ human you know,” he said. She smiled and shook her head. Then she looked at Gavin.

“Why are you up again young man?” she said.

Gavin yawned and shrugged.

“I not sleepy.”

“Oh, really?” Dorian said. “Why aren’t you listening to your mother?” Gavin shrugged again. “Did you have a bad dream?” Another shrug. Another yawn.

“Can I sleep hewe, please? Whia gets to sleep hewe.” Dorian looked at Manon. She nodded. Dorian picked up their son and set him in the middle of the bed, by the baby basket Rhiannon had been sleeping in.

“Rhia,” Dorian said. “Gets to sleep here, because she is a baby and needs your mother to feed her every few hours. You,” he said settling down next to his son, “are a big boy, and should be sleeping in your bed.”

“I not,” Gavin said, sleepily. “I baby, too.”

Manon gave Dorian a smile that told him she was slightly heartbroken by how cute their son’s words were. If he was being honest, he felt the same.

He wrapped his arm back around Gavin and said, “You’re right. You are still our baby. And no matter how big you get you always will be.” He kissed the top of Gavin’s head and the boy fell asleep.

A few minutes later, Dorian reached over and took Manon’s hand. He squeezed it.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what”

“This,” he motioned to their children, “our kids, our family. Everything.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“You’re welcome. But we wouldn’t be anything without you, Dorian,” she said.

They held one another’s gaze for a few moments as baby Rhiannon nursed.

“I love you, Manon.”

“I love you, Dorian.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm PropShopHannah on tumblr


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